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Tuesday, 28 February 2017

We all enjoy a trip to the countryside right? Especially if you live in a city. The fresh air, wide open space and the views are good for the soul. When I wrote ESCAPE TO THE COUNTRY several years ago, this was what my characters wanted...to start with. But as it turned out they were in need of some extra special time out with some extra special friends! This is still one of my bestselling novellas and I'm thrilled to share an excerpt with you today.

Back Cover Information

When the stress of city living takes its toll on Annie and Tim, a dirty weekend in the country visiting sexy friends proves to be just the antidote.

London life is hard going for Annie and Tim, and despite being in love, they’re just not hitting the spot in the bedroom.

So, in an attempt to put the steam back into their relationship, Tim whisks Annie to the Cotswolds to visit Matt and Jane his uber-cool, sexually liberal friends from University.

As the temperature heats to melting point in the chocolate box cottage so does the sex, and Annie, with the help of her hosts, discovers a variety of hidden carnal desires, not just in herself but also Tim.

Who would have thought he’d be into that? Who would have thought ‘that’ would have her buzzing from head to toe?

I wandered up the narrow staircase and into the bedroom Tim and I were sharing. It was a cute room with sloping ceilings and a small wardrobe built into the far wall. Everything was floral—the carpet, the wallpaper, the bedding. A total overload of flowers of every different size, shape and colour, but somehow, it worked, and I was looking forward to sleeping on the cast iron bed and waking up to the sound of birds.

I changed my top to a small green vest which hugged my breasts tighter than the other one, but still went with my white gypsy skirt. I re-glossed my lips, added a squirt of perfume and ran a brush through my curls.

Heading onto the landing, I noticed the room at the end of the corridor was still in darkness. The door was pushed up, nearly but not quite shut. I was about to turn away when I heard a long low groan my curiosity simply couldn’t ignore. It was a deep belly noise, like an uncontrolled spasm from a vibrating chest.

I stepped silently up to the door. Flicked my head across the gap and tried not to think how mortified I’d be if anyone caught me nosing in darkened rooms.

My eyes widened as my head filled with the scene looming out of the dimness.

Matt stood with his back pressed against the far wall, his jeans heaped around his ankles, head tipped towards the ceiling and eyes screwed tight shut. Kneeling before him was Carl. I couldn’t see his face, but I knew it was him. I knew it was Carl, and I knew what he was doing to Matt.

Matt’s hands were locked over Carl’s ears, moving his head backwards and forwards in time with the frantic thrusts of his hips. “Shit, yes, that’s it,” he said like a hiss from a punctured tyre. “Get fucking ready for it.”

Carl’s giving Matt a blow job. That phrase ran through my head twenty times a second for the next two seconds. I really hadn’t seen that coming. Carl’s giving Matt a blow job. Carl’s giving Matt a blow job.

Matt’s head levelled and his shoulders hunched forward. His lips pulled back in an animal-like snarl and he froze with his hips pushed deep against Carl’s face.

Quickly, I stepped away. After he’d finished coming down Carl’s throat, Matt would open his eyes and see me watching from the doorway. I didn’t know which one of us would be the most mortified—me probably.

I turned and came face to face with Jane.

“Hi, Annie,” she said quietly. “I came to see if you needed to borrow a top.”

“I...I... No, I’m fine, thanks.” I struggled to drag in a breath.

Her gaze slipped to my chest. My breasts were heaving like mounds of jelly and the wobbling flesh threatened to spill over its containment. “I like that top better than the other one,” she said, her eyes not moving from where they’d settled.

“I...just... Shall we go and sort out dessert?” I was keen to get her away from the image of her husband getting a blow job from another man.

“No, I think we’ll stay up here.” She lifted a stray curl from my breast and held it between her thumb and index finger. “I like it up here, just you and me.”

My skin ignited where her fingertip had brushed my flesh, and as she coiled the strand of hair around her finger with delicate, precise movements, I had to lean my back against the coolness of the wall for support. She placed the lock on my shoulder, and very gently, her finger traced over the strap of my vest top as if smoothing it neat.

“Don’t worry about them.” She nodded at the bedroom where Matt and Carl could be heard shuffling about. “They always do that between main and dessert.”

“Hell, no.” She stepped closer and I was forced to tip my head up to look at her face. “It means I can do exactly what I want, with who I want, and Matt can’t say a thing. Not one little, teeny, tiny complaint.” The shiny pink tip of her tongue caressed the corner of her mouth.

“Oh.” I thought she was going to kiss me. She was so close I could see every tiny freckle on her face. Her grey eyes were studying my mouth and her toes were touching mine. I licked my lips and buckled my knees.

“Do you have that kind of relationship with Tim?” she asked. “He and Matt used to share everything, you know?”

“They did?”

“Yes, nothing was out of bounds.”

“It wasn’t?”

“They even shared me sometimes.”

“Oh.” How did I feel about knowing Tim had slept with Jane? I played the scene in my head, like a movie, and decided there was only one overwhelming feeling, jealousy. But I wasn’t jealous of Jane getting it off with my boyfriend. I was jealous that Tim had been inside Jane. He knew what she felt like, what noises she made when she came, where she liked to be touched. I was insanely jealous that he’d done what I wanted to do right this minute.

Our heads moved closer. I licked my lips, so did she. Closer still. The next thing I knew, her mouth was pressing on mine and mine was parting for hers. Who’d instigated it I had no idea.

Her hot tongue probed past my teeth and swept around. I opened up farther, invited her in and relished my first time kissing a woman. Her lips were pliant and gentle, but there was urgency and confidence in them. I dipped my tongue into her mouth and delighted in her sweet, white wine flavour.

I ran my hands over the flimsy silken material of her red dress and down her spine. Travelled onto her behind and over the tops of her thighs, smoothing the silk and absorbing heat from taut, gym-honed flesh.

She let out a tiny whimper and leant her body forward, pressing me against the wall with her chest and hips. Her perfect breasts landed above mine and her hip bones pinned me in place. Her roaming hands caught in my mop of hair and she cradled the back of my skull as she pulled her mouth back an inch. “Let’s take this into your room,” she said on a charged outward breath. “Now, Annie.”

The way she pronounced my name, dripping with lust, sent extra currents of energy pumping to my clit, I was going to have sex with Jane. It was the only thing that could possibly happen next. I was going to touch her gorgeous body all over, feel her writhe beneath my fingers. I was determined to find out how she looked and sounded when she came.

I pressed my hand into the small of her back and practically shoved her into my room. My heart thudded like a jungle drum and my pussy contracted in anticipation. I shut the door with a quite click and turned to face her.

She was the epitome of self control and poise and stood elegantly at the end of the bed, toeing off her heels. My control and poise, however, were nowhere in sight. Tim had wound me up hours ago, and like a bomb, I was ready to go off. But still, I hesitated. Was I cheating on Tim if I fucked Jane?

“Tim won’t mind,” Jane said as if reading my thoughts. “In fact, he’d probably enjoy the show. So would Matt, come to think of it.”

Monday, 27 February 2017

That's right, if audio books are your thing, you can now grab both SCORED and COLD NIGHTS, HOT BODIES to enjoy. Even better if you sign up to audible you can listen to them both for FREE.

Of course, both are still available as ebooks too....

Okay, so I eat, sleep, and breathe football and reporting the beautiful game is my dream career. But that doesn't mean I don't have time for a major crush on the England captain, Lewis Tate. The bloke is sex on legs, hot with a capital H. Add in his awe-inspiring talent, his brooding good looks and what's not to lust after?

So my excitement is sky-high as I set off with the official press team to cover England's battle for the European Cup. But when a series of unfortunate, or as it turns out fortunate events, attracts Tate's attention my way, who am I to say no?

Add in a misogynistic manager, an over-zealous colleague, two blue silk ties and some incredible ball-handling skills and it becomes clear the road to victory, for me, will be an intensely erotic journey. Determined to savor every moment, I hang onto my sanity as best I can while living the fantasy and wondering if it can ever become reality. Because once Lewis Tate has taken me to heaven and back, it's clear no one else will ever compare.

All my life I've been the quiet bookworm, the office mouse. It hasn't bothered me. Immersing myself in erotic novels has kept me wriggling on the edge of my seat at work and firmly entrenched in my own fantasy world at night.

Though one thing is bothering me - my damn virginity. If only I could find a sexy bedroom expert to introduce me to the delights of having a lover. Someone handsome and charming, who can rival the hunky alpha males in my books. I have a very vivid, very well-fed imagination - he'll have to keep up.

Saturday, 25 February 2017

Welcome to My Sexy Saturday, this weekend I have a FREEBIE for you!

That's right, grab your copy of sexy Formula One novel from Amazon and let Dean Cudditch sweep you off your feet in this 5* novel.

She smiled against his lips, untangled herself from his arms, and spun around. She reached for the shower gel and a flannel and passed them over her shoulder to him.

“You offered your services.”

“Happy to oblige.”

Smiling, she studied the tiles on the wall. They were cream with bronze-colored flecks in them.

The scent of vanilla swirled within the steam. He rubbed the flannel over her shoulders, left to right, his touch tender and caring.

She sighed and relaxed into the moment. It was lovely to be cared for.

“Last night was amazing,” he said quietly against her ear.

“I know.”

“You were amazing.”

“Not so bad yourself.”

“And this morning.” He paused and kissed her temple. “Nicest way I’ve ever been woken up.”

She giggled. “I’m glad you approved.”

He slid the flannel down her back and rubbed it over the hollow of her spine. “I feel I should return the favor.”

“I wouldn’t complain.”

He kissed her shoulder then headed lower, following the path the flannel had just traveled.

She shut her eyes, loving the sensation of his stubble scratching her skin. His lips traced the shape of her spine then over her buttocks. The flannel had gone, and he was exploring the shape of her hips with his hands.

“Turn around,” he said, twisting her as he spoke. “Like this.”

As she spun to face him, he backed her up against the cool wall.

His face was level with her pussy, the water bouncing off his broad shoulders.

Tuesday, 21 February 2017

I'm thrilled to announce that my steammy MMF novella HEAT OF THE DAY has an honourable mention at Love Romance Cafe's Best of 2016.

Back Cover Information

When three become two with no explanation, emotions run high, passions flare and hearts are ripped apart.

Everyone can remember a perfect summer—one with endless blue skies, a heart brimming with true love and nights full of hot, sweaty lust. Well, we’ve just had a summer like that, Piper and I, and it was spent in Spain with a man who had that certain je ne sais quoi that we couldn’t resist.

Seraphim came into our lives and blinded us with his beauty, his charisma and his exotic charm. His generosity with his mind, his affection and his body blew us away and the three of us became a joyously tangled trio who needed nothing more than to be together.

So when he left, when we had no way of tracing him, the despair was black, the pain raw and our only comfort was each other. But why did Sera leave? What would make a man walk away from his lovers? And if he showed up again on the doorstep, what the hell would happen after so much angst? One thing’s for sure, it would be an explosive reunion in many ways. Absence might make the heart grow fonder, but it can make the rest of the body highly volatile as need wars with hurt, and pain collides with desire.

Monday, 20 February 2017

Today I have a FREEBIE for everyone, not only that it's a free hockey hunk who has a sprinkle of kink!

All you have to do to claim your copy is sign up to my monthly newsletter.

Here's a steamy excerpt from the book, which, by the way, is the first in a 7 novel series titled HOT ICE. (all can be read on Kindle Unlimited)

We went into Logan’s bedroom. His en-suite was much more lavish than mine. He had a huge double walk-in shower decorated in plush gold and soft cream, a triple sink unit and a Jacuzzi bath.

I hit the faucet and the shower filled with streams of pounding water from several different heads on the ceiling. He stepped in and I was close behind him.

“Turn around,” I said firmly, feeling a sudden need for control.

“What?” He frowned through the billowing steam.

“Turn around.” I pressed his shoulder. “My turn to touch you.”

His eyebrows twitched and so did his cock. He did as he was told and faced the wall, offering me his long, wide back, tight butt and muscular legs coated in soft dark hairs that thinned to nothing at the top of his thighs.

“Spread your hands out,” I said, cupping his triceps and urging his arms forward so his palms pressed against the tiles. “Like you’ve been arrested.”

He grunted. “You getting all dominant police lady on me?” he asked, dropping his head and spreading out his fingers. The water filled his thick hair and sluiced down the gutter of his spine.

“Why, can’t you handle it?” I traced my fingers through the river of water in the hollow of his back. “A woman taking control of you?”

“Oh, I can handle it fine, but just remember, be careful what you start, I might just finish it.”

“I’m pretty sure I can finish it.” I reached for a big yellow sponge and filled it with dark red shower gel. Squeezed and massaged until my fingers were white with thick, creamy foam and the scent of ginger and cinnamon filled the shower.

As the water beat onto my back, I placed the sponge on the top curve of his shoulders and wiped from left to right. The pouring water slid the bubbles over his gleaming, golden skin. I squeezed some more and watched the soapy stream run through every trough and dip of his back, down the neat crack of his butt and on to his solid thighs, finally settling around his ankles before swirling down the drain.

I touched the phoenix tattoo again and trailed upward to several crescent nail marks at the base of his shoulder blades—stab marks from my frenzied orgasm on the sofa. “Sorry about this,” I said.

“My favorite kind of wound,” he said in a tight voice.

“Yes, but I’m still sorry if I hurt you.”

He huffed. “You didn’t hurt me.” His voice was as dry as he was wet. “But if you feel bad and want to make it up to me, feel free to, at any time.”

I knew exactly how I was going to make it up to him. “Okay, turn around again.”

He shifted and loomed over me with the look of the devil in the depths of his eyes. But I pressed firmly against his water-slick chest until he was backed against the tiles. “I’ve finished with your shoulders and butt now,” I said. “Though I reckon your front needs attention.”

He swept his tongue over his bottom lip and narrowed his eyes. He looked like he was done playing my game and was about to grab me. But he didn’t, he stayed where I’d put him, though his fists clenched and his muscles tensed.

Deliberately slowly, I refilled the sponge with shower gel, worked up a lather and set it on his right collarbone. Sliding it to the left, I squeezed and watched as white froth trickled down his sternum, caught through the fuzz at his navel and settled in his pubic hair. “You’re getting good and clean now,” I said, shifting the sponge to the right collarbone again. “What do you think, Logan?”

“Clean as I’m ever gonna get,” he growled as a muscle flexed in his cheek. I’d noticed this happened when he was getting frustrated or impatient. I couldn’t decide if it was cute or dangerous—probably the latter.

I dropped the sponge on the floor and rested my hands on top of his soapy hips, right where the sharp angle of muscle tapered inward and downward from his six-pack. “Does that mean you’re always a little bit dirty?” I licked my lips. “Even when you’re soaped up in the shower?”

“Only when I’m in the shower and your mouth is looking so damn appealing.”

“You like my mouth?”

“Hell, yeah, sexiest mouth I’ve ever seen.”

He leaned in for a kiss but I dodged and shoved him back against the tiles by his hips. “Mmm, I’m glad about that,” I said, pulling provocatively on my lower lip with my teeth. “Because I’m hungry, really hungry.” I looked down at his erect cock jutting forward, slid my fingers into his pubes and tangled them in wiry hairs. Then I headed lower and wrapped my right hand around his thick, rigid shaft and sent the left to cup his balls.

Logan let out a groan. “Ahh, fuck,” he said, looking down. “Your little hands are so sweet on me.”

I squeezed until I could feel his pulse beating in my palm and stroked up to the wide head, learning the shape and texture of him.

“Ah, that’s it,” he said, shutting his eyes and tipping his head back until it rested on the tiles.

I gave him another stroke downward, right to the base, and glided back up again. Then sank to my knees, making sure my body had as much contact as possible with his as I went, and finally, through the steam, came face-to-face with his big cock.

He twined his fingertips in my wet hair and locked his knees as I guided him into my mouth.

I had to open to the max. The wide, crested head only just fit. Like the rest of his big body, his cock was on a different scale to everyone else. But as the musky, slightly soapy flavor of him invaded my taste buds and made me dizzy with longing, I knew I could do it. I knew I could take all of him.

Determinedly, I beat down my gag reflex and fed him in farther with my hand. Thick throbbing veins and skin as smooth as silk rode over my tongue and palate.

He groaned above me. “Fuck, Brooke,” he said in a tight voice. “You don’t pussyfoot about, do you? Straight for a deep throat.”

In answer I cupped his testicles again, where the hair was sparser, and rolled and fondled them like two balls in a bag, my fingertips gently exploring their shape through loose skin.

I dragged hot, misty air through my nose as he hit the sensitive flesh of the back of my throat and lodged there. My heart was hammering, my own body flying.

I created a strong suction. With my thumb and index finger I set up a steady push-pull at the base of his cock. My tongue laved and fondled his shaft as I bobbed backward and forward at his groin, taking him deeper and deeper each time.

I felt empowered and utterly sensual. I had this big, strong man at my mercy and tottering on the edge of his control. I cast my gaze up, his face was lowered, hanging down. His heavy-lidded eyes caught mine, his teeth had sunk into his lower lip and his hands tightened further into my hair roots. “Stop now, or you’re gonna get it,” he said in a voice so hoarse it almost wasn’t recognizable as his.

I had no intention of stopping, I could almost feel the cum boiling in his scrotum, getting ready to jettison from his cock. I was hungry to taste his desire for me. I upped the pace and tightened the suction.

“Sweet Jesus,” he panted. “Have mercy.” His hands captured my head in a viselike hold and forged into my mouth. Sank right to the back of my throat, even farther than before.

He stilled.

Any other time, any other man, I would have fought and balked, but Logan had me just about coming with the wildness of his urgency and his domination over my mouth.

I lashed him with my tongue, sucked like my life depended on it and massaged his balls. I could breathe later. I was consuming him, taking all of him. His body was mine. He was a hostage to the pleasure I was giving.

He arched his hips tighter into my face. His cock penetrated the very back of my throat and he hissed and cursed above me as semen burst from the tip of his cock, flooding straight down my throat in long, milky jets. It was never-ending, ripping out of him, flowing from his body into mine as he held my head in a firm grip.

I swallowed, managed to drag in air, and continued my assault on the base of his shaft and his retracted balls. I let my finger slide over the thin fold of skin between his sack and his anus, tickled and rubbed the patch of smooth flesh I found there.

“Oh, fuck,” he said. “Wicked little…” The last pulse of liquid spilled into my mouth.

Thursday, 16 February 2017

Please welcome Kd Grace to my blog today with her new novella TOYS FOR BOYS. I've had the pleasure of reading this quirky, sexy M/M story set in the UK and I have to say it's absolutely fabulous. If you enjoy guys who are hot for each other and an author who gets a cameo role, then don't miss it....

Inspiration On the Hoof:

One
of the best holidays I ever had was a fourteen-day192 mile walk across England
on the Wainwright Coast to Coast Path. The path begins at St. Bee’s Head, on
the Irish Sea. It crosses the entire Lake District, then the Yorkshire Dales
and finally the North York Moors, finishing at Robin Hood’s Bay on the North
Sea. It was one of the hardest, most inspiring, most spectacular things I’d
ever done. I don’t mind saying there were times I wasn’t sure I could finish it
and there were times when I was a little bit scared, but I would do it again in
a heartbeat.

Doing
it again is exactly what I did when I wrote Toys for Boys. While Doc
and Will’s adventure unfolded in my imagination, I got to live the whole
experience of that wonderful walk over again while at the same time adding a
few challenges and unexpected surprises for my boys.

High tech meets
low tech in a wilderness adventure that sizzles.

Toys
for Boys Blurb:

Alpha
nerd Will Charles teams up with Caridoc ‘Doc’ Jones in a coast to coast walk
across England reviewing outdoor gift suggestions for the Christmas edition of
Toys for Boys—an online magazine dedicated to the latest gadgets to tickle a
man’s fancy. Will is recording their adventures with the latest smart phone
technology. Doc is reviewing the latest outdoor gear. The two quickly discover
the great outdoors provides even better toys for boys, toys best shared al
fresco, toys that, in spite of Will’s great camera work, will never be reviewed
in Toys for Boys.

Note: Toys for Boys has been previously
published as part of the Brit Boys: With Toys boxed set.

“We’re not going to make Ennerdale
tonight,” Doc yelled into the wind.

Will’s answer was incoherent, an
incoherence that wasn’t entirely because the wind was interfering with Doc’s
hearing. They’d already got lost once and had fought their way back to the
trail. Doc was fucking freezing, but he had spent enough time outdoors in bad
weather to push his body way further than most people could. No matter how fit
Will was, Doc recognised the signs of hypothermia when he saw them. They had to
get out of the weather and get warm.

They lost the trail twice more before Doc
made the executive decision to set up a tent in the first spot halfway flat. To
his surprise it had been the damn urBrain that had saved the day. Will had
downloaded detailed, interactive OS maps, but in his condition, Doc doubted if
he could read his own name in bold letters, let alone the contours of a map.
He’d pried the device, safe from the weather in its own little waterproof
sheath, from Will’s icy hands and, with the light from the screen, he was able
to find a wooded area relatively flat and as shielded from the weather as they
were likely to get. The rain turned to hail and the Arctic wind made it feel
like bird shot against all bits of exposed skin as Doc struggled to set up the
tent. He’d shoved another energy bar at Will, and when he’d only stood there looking
at it, Doc had opened it and half crammed it down his throat before he went
back to work on shelter, desperate to get Will out of the weather.

Once the tent was secure, he chucked the
bags inside, then grabbed Will by the collar and dragged him into the tight
little space.

The energy bar must have helped. Will
seemed coherent enough. “I can’t feel my hands,” he said, battling to get his
sleeping bag out of its waterproof sack.

“Would you look at that?” Will said as
Doc grabbed the bag. “Amazingly, my middle finger works just fine.” He flipped
him off.

“So does your smart mouth.” Without
thinking, Doc zipped the two bags together.

“What are you doing?” Will was suddenly
serious.

“You’re hypothermic. Get your wet clothes
off and get into the bag.”

“Oh. Right.” But Will could no more
manage the buttons and zippers on his clothing than he could his sleeping bag.

This time when Doc shoved his hands away
and pushed the waterproof jacket off his shoulders, Will only watched, eyes
focussed on the process as though it were something totally new to him. Doc
cursed the fiddly buttons on the man’s shirt, his own hands none too agile from
the cold and wet and the fact that he was undressing Will fucking Charles,
about whom he’d been having less than pristine thoughts since his first view of
the man’s arse. Will fucking Charles with whom he was about to cuddle down into
a sleeping bag butt naked, never mind that it was with good reason.

Will sucked in a harsh breath. “Your
damned hands are like ice cubes, Woodsy.”

“Oh shut it, William, or I’ll kick your
arse outside and make you sleep in the rain.”

“Fucking like to see you try.” Will’s
teeth were chattering hard, and his whole body trembling from the cold as Doc
worried the shorts down over his commando bum and found himself face to cock,
which made the blighter burst into hysterical laughter. “Have we ulterior
motives, Mr Jones? Where the hell’s urBrain? I have to get this on camera.”

“Want a selfie of your cock, do you, you
shivering bastard?” Doc turned his attention to the walking boots, which had
stopped all progress of getting the man naked. Focussing on something other
than the naked, very vulnerable body of Will fucking Charles helped clear his
mind. He was too cold, too tired to get hard over what was essentially a matter
of life and death, he told himself. Surely!

Once the boots were dispensed with, he
shoved the man into the sleeping bag and went about the awkward business of
stripping himself.

“Where the hell is the urBrain when I
need it?” Will chuckled between chattering teeth.

“You point that thing at me, and I’ll
shove it up your arse.” Doc’s own teeth sounded like a couple of spastic tap
dancers had been turned loose in his mouth.

“Now that’s a function I didn’t find in
the instruction manual,” Will replied.

What started out as ribald comments on
the shrivelling effect of the cold on male tender bits dwindled to nothing more
than the sound of convulsive shivering. By the time Doc had shed the last of
his clothes and shoved his way down next to Will, he was seriously worried. It
took all his strength, which wasn’t a helluva lot at that moment, to pull the
bloke into his arms and hold him close enough to share body heat, what little
there was of it. The worry subsided a bit when Will threw his arms around his
neck and gave a harsh chuckle against his throat. “This was seriously worth
getting hypothermic for. Pity I’m too fucking tired to appreciate it.”

Though Doc agreed wholeheartedly with the
sentiment, his focus was on getting Will warm. Then he’d get out the
backpacking stove and fix them something hot. That was the last thing he
remembered, that and the feel of Will’s body shivering against him, in the tent
redolent with the male scent of core heat and wet gear, all overlaid by the icy
metal smell of the fells in a storm.

Voted ETO Best Erotic Author of 2014, and a proud member of The Brit
Babes, K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about
sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she is, otherwise,
what would she write about?

When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening. When she’s not
gardening, she’s walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it.
She and her husband have walked Coast to Coast across England, along with
several other long-distance routes. For her, inspiration is directly
proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots. She loves
mythology. She enjoys spending time in the gym – right now she’s having a mad
affair with a pair of kettle bells. She loves to read, watch birds and do anything
that gets her outdoors.

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